“With current power supply technology, that’s going to be a long way off,” I said with a smile. Gerald truly was a unique mix, a genius businessman on one hand, and a geeky teenager on the other. It was part of what I loved about him. “Besides, Wes isn’t a Ranger anymore. Unless you have plans on moonlighting as a superhero, Wes?”
“Not likely,” Wes replied, licking his spoon clean. “Hey, you know what? I was planning on heading up to Canada for a week now that I’m back. It’s real isolated, backwoods survival, camping-type stuff. How about you come along? It’ll do you some good. Get your mind off of things.”
I snorted derisively. “Wes, you know that I’m about the only Apache in existence who can’t start a fire, even if you gave me a box of matches and a bottle of lighter fluid. My idea of roughing it up is a Holiday Inn where they change the sheets only every other day.” It was true. I mean, I do have my tomboy side, but the outdoors was just totally not my thing.
“I know, I know, but trust me, it’ll be fun. I can adjust my load, make it easier for you, and you’ll be able to get it all out of your head. I promise you, you’ll have the time of your life.”
I thought about it. The idea of spending time with Wesley was appealing. I hadn’t been able to do much of it after we both were finished with college. But still, there was the whole camping and outdoors part of the adventure that was so not me. “Wes, I appreciate the offer, but . . . ”
“But Pocahontas is going to be severely in need of a manicure after spending a week in the wild with her stepbrother,” Wes teased, using the name for me that he knew I hated. I mean, I’m proud of my Apache heritage, but being Apache isn’t my whole identity. His voice softened, and he reached across the table and took my hand. “Come on, it’ll be fun. And I promise, if you agree, I’ll give you a year of no teasing at all.”
I felt his fingers covering my hand, and his touch felt more like a boyfriend’s than a stepbrother’s. It was one of the reasons I had resisted spending so much private time with Wesley in the first place. I didn’t know if I could trust myself around him. He was in so many ways what I wanted in a man. And yes, the electric tingle of his fingers on my skin touched me in ways that I shouldn’t be thinking about my stepbrother. “Wes, I . . . ”
“I promise, I will be on my best behavior,” Wesley said, interrupting me and flashing me that irresistible smile, that smile he’d always used whenever he wanted me to do something for him. It worked more often than I cared to admit. “Scout’s honor, and you know I was an Eagle Scout, after all.”
“Who got kicked out when you got into a fight with your Scoutmaster, if I remember correctly.” It was the only comeback I could think of, I was so desperate to hold on to some semblance of resistance.
Wes let go of my hand to shrug his shoulders. “Not that again. You know that asshole deserved it anyway. He was bullying the younger Scouts. Just because I took care of it my way doesn’t mean I was wrong.”
I thought about it for a second, then nodded my head. Wes was right, and from some of the rumors I heard afterwards, bullying wasn’t the only thing the Scoutmaster had done with some of the younger scouts. “Okay, a week in Canada. But you have to do something for me first.”
Wesley and my parents all smiled, and Wesley raised his hands up in celebration. Mom scraped her plate for the last bite of her pie and looked at me. “What is it Wesley has to do anyway?”
I leaned back and pointed at my clothing. I was still wearing my work clothes, but it wasn’t that much different from my casual clothes, unless I was in the gym. “Wesley needs to take me shopping. I doubt I have anything that’s warm enough for the Canadian wilderness.”
“Perfect,” Wes said, his eyes twinkling. “Tomorrow, I’m taking you to the Army Navy surplus store. Forget REI or North Face, we’re getting you the real deal.”
Chapter 2
Robin
“You’re sure about this?” I asked, looking at the small, single-engine sea plane. The damn thing looked like something out of a National Geographic documentary. “No offense, but it looks like it shouldn’t even get to the end of the runway, let alone take us three hundred miles north.”
“I know, but I’ve used these guys before. They have a top-flight reputation, and while the plane doesn’t look like a lot, it’s as mechanically sound as anything in the skies today. They’re a good outfit. You did a good job this past week preparing, by the way—you’ll be just fine.” Wes seemed very sure of himself, and I trusted him more than my gut. Still . . . I couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy riding in this damn thing. I loved to fly, but I was used to riding in first-class luxury.